Most Awesome Lunch Deals: Lone Star’s $5 endless chicken strips

The all-you-can-eat chicken strips Monday lunch special at the Lone Star Cafe interested no one in the newsroom. This was until I finally cajoled a fellow reporter — we’ll call her Work Companion From the Northeast — to investigate.

Like El Dorado, the Lost City of Gold, all-you-can-eat chicken strips for less than $10 sounded too good to be true. How big were these strips of deep-fried chicken? Were they truly strips or more nugget-like in form? Would the strips be displayed on a buffet table or, perhaps, piled in a heap from which you’d pluck them one-by-one with a pair of tongs?

Work Companion From the Northeast and I walked in and they whisked us to a table overlooking the River Walk. We said the words “chicken strips” and the waitress acknowledged the order and left. (For the record, Lone Star Cafe refers to them as “chicken fingers;” you may also know them as “chicken tenders;” just so we’re all on the same page.)

She returned with plates each containing three chicken strips — indeed strip-shaped, between three and four inches in length — a scoop of mash potatoes and a helping of bacon-green beans.

The chicken strips were as chicken strips are: white meat taken from the bird’s pectoralis minor muscles (according to Wikipedia) battered and then deep fried. I’m not sure if the battering process takes place in Lone Star’s kitchen, or not. However, I respected the fact that they were piping hot, which gave me the impression they were fried-to-order. They were nicely seasoned — more on the peppery side — not bursting with flavor, but no where near bland. All of the strips were a gorgeous golden brown, and I could hear the actual crunch with each bite. Some of the pieces were meaty, while others had those annoying parts where you’re mostly chewing crust. That problem is easily solved by simply ordering more chicken strips.

Or, “reload.”

This is the badass terminology they use at Lone Star Cafe. “Are you ready for a reload?,” the waitress asked. Why yes, that would be wonderful. She came back with one of those red oval-shaped plastic food baskets containing FOUR more strips. Reload, it turns out, is no hyperbole. At Lone Star, they’re not offering a refill. We’re gonna one-up your chicken strips intake; that’s called a reload, sir.

(It even says ‘reload’ on the receipt: “Chk Finger Reload $0.00.”)

They automatically bring you a sauce bowl of peppery gravy, but you can — and should — request honey-mustard and barbecue just to mix it up.

None of this is particularly healthy, however, I think it’s time to point out the price.

I was under the impression the special was $7. In fact, it’s $5, $5.41 including tax. This excludes the drink, but Work Companion From the Northeast and I simply ordered water, which other fans of the endless chicken strips sitting around us drank as well.

Look, the Michelin inspectors aren’t awarding any of their coveted stars to the Lone Star Cafe — I would say, ever. But it’s good food, and for the price, the value you get in return makes it worth repeat visits. Five-dollar all-you-can-eat chicken strips is a great deal anywhere, especially on the River Walk. It can be a bit daunting — consuming that much fried food. Work Companion From the Northeast declined to reload, but for $5.41, the one plate was still a great deal. I opted for a single reload, and then was offered another. But seven strips in, I was done.

“Would you like another reload?” she asked.

“We’re on our way out, thank you,” Work Companion From the Northeast said.